


Snowy Scene

by Emsiecat



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Dwarves in the Shire, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Snow, winter fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 18:57:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5509358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emsiecat/pseuds/Emsiecat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by radioproxy's gorgeous Bagginshield winter artwork here: http://radioproxy.tumblr.com/post/135222553971/my-xmas-card-design-this-year-sharing-this ,  I decided to write a ficlet to go with it! I was so disappointed in myself for not joining the Hobbit Holiday exchange, so wanted to do something for all the fandom anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snowy Scene

"Your feet are liable to freeze."

"They won't."

"I still cannot fathom how any person can walk in snow barefoot and not suffer any ill effects, it boggles the mind."

"I am a hobbit, it is precisely what we are made to do… much like you and your kin apparently have impenetrable skulls, be that to weapon or good common sense. I have said before and I will say again; try not to boggle your dear mind by thinking too much on it. I will be just fine, trust me."

"You are harsh, love," a certain look and a sly curl of a smile told Bilbo that no offence was taken by his jibes, and that Thorin was about to say something both endearing and foolish. "Fine you may be, and very fair in that coat, but will you at least wear the gloves for I doubt your hands are as resilient as your feet."

"My hands too are fine," Lies, the chill air had already nipped them and they were turning red and stinging from the cold of the snow from before. "But if it will stop you clucking over me like a Dori, then I suppose I can take them."

'Dori' was synonymous with 'mother hen' to Bilbo and his companions, and Thorin promptly blustered at the comparison to their fussiest Company member (excluding the hobbit of course). Despite his protestations that he was not a bit like Dori, Thorin perjured himself in his denial by readily tugging off his warm, green, woollen mittens and passing them to Bilbo.

The hobbit smiled indulgently and donned them with a word of thanks. Flexing fingers that were stiff with cold within the fuzzy confines as the residual heat from Thorin's hands seeped into his own skin, giving him some relief.

"You've never made a snow-hobbit… er snow-dwarf, have you?" Bilbo asked apropos to nothing.

At the bewildered look he received, Bilbo had obviously guessed correctly.

"A snow-dwarf?"

"Ah, hmm, that's another thing hobbits do that dwarves do not then," Bilbo wriggled his nose as a lively breeze tickled it and held back a small sneeze before continuing his explanation. "We use the snow to create a likeness of ourselves out of it. Sometimes we make ourselves; sometimes we make family members or friends, sometimes even favourite characters from tales. It's just a fun way to pass the time really, and to show off how creative one can be," he grinned then, the glint in his eye mischievous. "And if a particular family member has been very irritating, one can always attempt to make them as hideous as possible."

"And here I was deluding myself with the assumption that you were a mature and upstanding citizen in Hobbiton. You're no better than the fauntlings… or my nephews," Thorin flashed a grin and slipped his arm through Bilbo's as they wandered further away from Bag End.

The snow had arrived just last night. Thick, fluffy stuff that lay deep upon the ground and for all appearances looked like a fine feather-bed. There was something about the Shire, Thorin thought not for the first time since moving here, that made everything seem so much gentler and forgiving; the snow included. Snows in the mountains tended to be accompanied by biting wind and harsh blizzards; here though… here all seemed soft and harmless.

On waking this morning, it had been to the whooping calls of his own nephews as they ran out of Bag End without even bothering to stop for breakfast. Honestly, for all the two were full-grown they could still regress back into innocent and impish states of being, far too easily for ones who had seen all they had. However, Thorin was very glad for it.

"I resent that remark," Bilbo replied affecting a look of haughtiness. "The fauntlings I can stand… but to be likened to your miscreant nephews?" Bilbo pretended to shudder and Thorin laughed.

Bilbo didn't mean it of course, but he did have the right to be somewhat annoyed with his sister's-sons today. After all, they had been the ones to start the snowball fight…

 

-

 

Bilbo ran out of the smial and after the two younger dwarves in a vain effort to get them to come back inside and actually _eat_ something before they went tearing off to get into goodness knows what trouble.

This had been Bilbo's first mistake.

The pair of mischievous dwarves wasted no time in pelting Bilbo with snow as soon as he moved far enough into the open.

Unfortunately, the brothers weren't the only ones who were part of the ambush; Bofur, Nori, and Bifur had all decided to join in and it was all Bilbo could do to run and duck behind one of the bushier evergreens in his garden for protection.

The dwarves, fine tacticians in war that they were, had positioned themselves in such a way that Bilbo could not hope to get back into his smial without being attacked with snowballs again. Nori, the devious git, had gone and positioned himself on the roof above the very door.

Five against one? This was hardly fair! Bilbo groaned, and without any further idea what to do, set about packing together his own snowy projectiles in a neat pile beside him as he called out for help.

"Dwalin! Dori! Please come out here and help me!" he didn't dare call for Thorin. He could not be certain the former king wouldn't take the side of his nephews, and the sheer betrayal would surely break his heart! Not to mention he doubted his husband would be awake enough yet to be of any real help to either side anyway.

The aforementioned pair, ever loyal to Bilbo, burst out of the smial almost immediately and though finding no dire threat to Bilbo's person, were quick to take up arms in his defence.

Bofur fairly shrieked when Dori aimed a particularly vicious snowball at his backside, and Nori was quick to scurry away when he saw Dwalin, and his own brother Ori who had come outside to see what the commotion was about, had teamed up against him in order to aid Bilbo.

All the while from behind his fortress of shrubbery, Bilbo picked and chose his moments to pop up above the leafy parapet and defend himself quite efficiently.

It seemed the shouting and laughing had attracted an audience. The rest of the Company and Dís were gathered out of range by the front door, commentating on the 'epic battle' and taking wagers on which side would be victorious. Thorin was the last to emerge from Bag End, blinking bleary eyed at the spectacle and suppressing a wide yawn as he muzzily wished Bilbo good luck.

No help at all…

After a few moments in which there was silence, Bilbo made his second mistake. He emerged from his semi-protected place behind the shrubs to wander into the open in order to hunt down his quarry. The brothers had disappeared from sight in the melee and Bilbo was thinking that if he could find and take Fíli and Kíli by surprise, maybe he could gain the upper hand.

The Company, Dís, and Thorin remained by the door with bated breath but said not a word to him as he wandered passed them and further away from the safety of his hiding place.

He realised too late that Fíli was behind him, the elder prince having slunk up as quietly as one of the great mountain cats, and Bilbo was heaved into the air before he could even squeak a protest.

From over by the door, Bilbo heard a few cries of dismay and the sound of coin changing hand. He'd obviously let down a couple of his companions then, pity.

Fíli held him firmly around the waist from behind, calling over the hobbit's fuzzy locks towards Kíli who emerged from behind the smial where he'd been hiding.

"Got 'im Kí! Now what to do with our prisoner…"

Kíli grinned impishly, scrunching up a fist sized snowball of his own as he walked in a slow, supposedly threatening manner towards the trapped hobbit.

"Bilbo you have two choices," he purred in what was apparently meant to be a menacing fashion.

Fíli staggered closer to Kíli, deciding that his brother was making too much of a meal of this. Bilbo wasn't particularly heavy but the hobbit was putting up a valiant struggle to get free and was becoming difficult to keep hold of.

Bilbo braced a foot on Kíli's shoulder as they reached him in a vain attempt to prevent the dwarf getting closer. It was hard to breathe with Fíli's vice like grip round his ribs.

"What are my choices?" the hobbit grumbled, defeated.

Both of his 'former' friends grinned triumphantly, and the rest of the Company who had bet against him crowed delightedly in the background, traitors.

"In the face or down the collar, Bilbo?" Kíli gave the snowball he held a joyous look.

"Don't you bloody dare!" he choked. He was already frozen from the impromptu battle, his nose turning pink in the cold breeze.

"Sorry wrong answer," Fíli laughed. "Now we get to choose."

"In the face! Get 'im in the face!" Bofur called out from somewhere nearby, obviously still sore about becoming Dori's target practice.

"Nah, down the collar is better. It'll cause 'im more grief!" that was Nori, and the yelp that followed clearly indicated that either Dwalin or Ori had managed to avenge Bilbo for that awful suggestion.

Over by the door, there was some bickering over Bilbo's fate as well, though Thorin was loyal enough to announce that if Bilbo suffered any illness from this then he would be most displeased. It was an evenly given comment that quieted a couple of the voices at least.

All the while, Bilbo wriggled fruitlessly in an attempt to escape whatever Fíli and Kíli decided upon, but Fíli's grip was too strong.

Finally, he gave in and muttered, "I would like to be able to _breathe_ at some point this morning, if it's all the same to you."

The bickering amongst their group was broken by Kíli realising he hadn't exacted punishment on the prisoner yet.

"Oh quite!" he exclaimed clapping his hands in sudden realisation. "Fí let him go."

Fíli did just that, and Bilbo was about to give thanks for them showing mercy when Kíli soundly squashed one snowball on top of Bilbo's head, and another that he'd taken from Nori into his face.

Bilbo wiped the snow from his eyes, feeling the icy flakes rapidly cool and tickle his scalp as he staggered blindly away from Fíli, before managing to blink the icy wetness from his vision and looking up to glare at the brothers.

"You're _dead_ ," Bilbo hissed (not looking particularly threatening it might be noted), and bent to scoop up a handful of snow; flinging it with all the lethal accuracy he had displayed back in the battle for Erebor.

The first struck Kíli square in his shocked face; the second caught Fíli's shoulder as he turned to run, leaving his younger brother to his fate at the hands of an angry hobbit. Then the two were off, laughing as much as they were screaming as Bilbo gave chase.

 

 -

 

"You didn't honour your oath to take their lives," Thorin supplied mildly as he recalled the hobbit's earlier ire.

"The quill is mightier than the sword, or so a wise hobbit once said. I shall simply kill them off in my story instead," Bilbo's tone was light and breezy as he waved an idle hand through the air.

"You would dare tarnish the good name of Durin by having my sister's-sons die in some children's tale?"

"Excuse me, it will be a fine story, and very well written. 'Some children's tale' indeed! As if I were writing fairy stories and faunt's rhymes. This will be a noble retelling of our Quest! You watch your tongue, or you shall join them."

Thorin raised both hands in an appeasing gesture and ducked his head to hide a broad smile, "Far be it from me to incite your wrath, dearest."

"Very good," Bilbo looked satisfied with the answer and the pair fell into companionable silence as they reached the bottom of the hill behind Bag End.

Here it was quiet; the sounds of another loud snowball fight starting were muffled by their surroundings.

They had all gone back inside following the initial battle this morning in order to dry off and warm up again, but the indomitable forces that were Fíli and Kíli could not be dissuaded for long, and they had soon coerced many of their companions into joining them in another all out snow war.

Bilbo hadn't relished the idea of becoming soaked and cold all over again, and had declined, wrapping himself up in his warmest coat before inviting Thorin to join him on this walk.

"Could we make one of these snow-dwarves you just spoke of?" for although Thorin had preferred to avoid a snowball fight, he did find himself amenable to the idea of creating a snow-dwarf or snow-hobbit with Bilbo.

Bilbo's grin was beatific as he gave Thorin's hand a gentle squeeze, "that was why I asked you about them in the first place. Come on, I'll show you how to make them."

They spent the better part of the afternoon on their creations. Bilbo choosing to try to replicate Thorin's likeness from snow, and Thorin gamely attempted to capture Bilbo's likeness in turn.

They stopped for breaks in order not to get too cold, and returned once or twice to Bag End in order to find accessories for their snow-dwarf and snow-hobbit.

Thorin told Bilbo of how dwarves did create things from snow, but they were usually structures such as makeshift dwellings if one were stuck out in the snowy wilds for a night, or impromptu fortresses to help dwarflings in their snowball fights.

Bilbo laughed and told Thorin he should have expected as much; he told him that dwarves were practical and ingenious, and would of course create something remarkable from mere snow and ice. And if Thorin's cheeks were red from the praise, he could always blame it on the chilly breeze.

They finally finished their creations just before dusk that evening, and Balin had kindly ambled down from Bag End with a mug of hot tea for them both.

They had decided to sit and admire their work whilst they drank their tea before going inside again, and were curled close to one another now, Bilbo's chin buried in his scarf as he smiled at the snow-dwarf and snow-hobbit before them. He hadn't done this since he was a tween, it was nice.

Bilbo tore his gaze away from their snowy counterparts for a few moments in order to look up at the sky. It was perfectly clear through the thin cloak of winter air; the next flurry of snow they had been promised by a grumbling Óin speaking of a telling 'ache in his joints' had not arrived yet. He could see thousands of stars glittering above them, framed by the by the spidery pine trees that now appeared black in the darkness. A bonfire had been set up a few hours before to warm them whilst they were outside (though it was situated far enough from their work that they needn't worry about them melting). Bilbo could see the heather grey smoke spiralling upwards. How Thorin had managed to set up a fire in all this snow was beyond him, but he suspected that it was a natural feat of dwarves to be able to light a fire most anywhere.

"Thank you, for joining me today, I haven't done this in years," Bilbo confessed at last, nuzzling his head against Thorin's shoulder.

"You're welcome; after all, it can't always be my nephews that get to act like younglings."

"Very true," he paused and drained the rest of his tea before standing, a little cold and stiff from being seated on the snow covered ground, and offered a hand to Thorin to help him up. "Come along, or Óin will have our hides if we fall sick."

"Not to mention my dear sister," Thorin agreed and rose to his feet, keeping Bilbo's hand in his as they made their way back up to Bag End.

Halfway back, Thorin paused and aimed a suspicious look at Bilbo before speaking again. "Your snow-dwarf was very well done, but I do have to ask… did you really need to use a _whole_ carrot for my nose?"

Bilbo laughed and tugged Thorin down to press a kiss to the chilled nose in question, "Of course I did. It's one of your finest features. Half a carrot would have looked ridiculous."

"Hm, as you say," Thorin stole a lingering kiss of his own from Bilbo's smiling lips and together the pair returned to Bag End.


End file.
